


If, If , Fucking If.

by WritLarge



Series: Inception Bingo 2017 [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Community: inceptiversary, Gen, Inception Bingo, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Inception, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: The top keeps spinning.





	If, If , Fucking If.

Night had fallen and it was still spinning.

He'd only glanced at the top earlier before gathering up his children and hurrying them out for a celebratory dinner. And a walk in the park. And ice cream. Delaying the moment of their return as long as fucking possible until James had grown sulky, Phillipa had asked to go home, and Dom had felt like a shitty Dad. Fucking up on the first day back no less. The drive home had been too quiet, the children dozing off and leaving him with only the low chatter on the radio as a distraction. He’d gotten them into bed with shaking hands, dread sitting like an anchor in his chest.

Dom finally braved the kitchen hours after setting the top a whirl and to his horror found it spinning just as he'd left it.

"Fuck."

Fuck! He ran hand through his hair and scowled. Was he still in Limbo? If he killed himself now, would he wake into the next level or... No. Those dreams would be gone, because Yusuf, Arthur, and Eames would have already woken. They’d all be awake. Except maybe Saito. But hadn't he found Saito? Had that all happened or had it all played out in Limbo itself?

Christ. He didn't know. 

Dom paced the kitchen, watching the goddamned top that refused to fall. Mal’s totem before it was his.

When had it started? Planning inception, that had been real. It had to have been. And yet... if it hadn’t been, if this wasn’t- If, if, _fucking if_. Maybe he’d wake up to reality on the plane again or in the warehouse, wherever his physical self still was, like he and Mal had before? 

Though Mal would have argued that he'd never woken at all.

FUCK!

He slammed his hands on the table, making the top wobble. Fuck everything. Dom flipped the damn table, sending the whole thing, top and all, clattering into the floor. Toys scattering, glasses of tinted water and tiny paintbrushes spilled across the tile.

He was done. 

“Dom?” Miles called from the direction of the guest room. “Is everything all right?”

Dom ignored him. He wanted it to End. If it was a dream Miles didn’t matter, and if it wasn’t he’d be there to pick up the pieces again. Because if this wasn’t a dream, and this was Dom’s life now? Always wondering, unsettled, waiting for a sign? His children were better off without him. 

Stalking to the gun safe, he liberated his sole legal firearm and shot himself in the head.


End file.
